


Between The Pages

by Rosebudwhite



Category: Actor RPF, Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Bookshop, F/M, Fluff, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 18:18:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1697939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosebudwhite/pseuds/Rosebudwhite





	Between The Pages

**Author's Note:**

  * For [recurringdreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/recurringdreams/gifts).



There is a bad joke about a frog in a library and that was how Kirsty felt: reddit, reddit.  A devourer of books, the literary classics were old friends, modern authors took her to worlds not yet known.  Bookshops were her bastions of peace.  Quiet, yet less reverent than libraries, and her favourite was close to home and housed a coffee shop.  What more could she ask for?  Well something different to read would be a start.

She wandered through sci-fi and fantasy and skirted around the reference books.  Nothing was jumping out at her, screaming ‘read me’.  Then she made her way towards the back of the shop where the coffee shop was, and her favourite section, the classics.

Today’s Danish was pecan and apple, and the author of choice in the display area was F. Scott Fitzgerald.  Copies of Gatsby took up most of the display, some with minimalist covers, others with, and this made her shudder, pictures from the recent film on their covers.

As she circled around the display, the smell of roasted coffee drawing her into the warm bucket seats, something caught her eye.  There it was, ‘Tender is the Night’, Fitzgerald’s last novel.  Paper copies were rare these days, due to the limited reprints that were not academic versions.

Daring not to breathe, her fingers reached out and curled around the spine of this solitary copy, just as another’s fingers caught the open edge.

“Oh!”  Both of their hands pulled away and the book fell to the floor.

Kirsty watched as the tall man in front of her bent down to pick up the book, his curly hair falling over his eyes slightly.  As he stood upright, she held out her hand in expectation that he would hand it back.

His brow furrowed in confusion, “Sorry, I thought I had it first.”

Kirsty stood her ground, “No, I did.  And I’d like it back please.”

“I think you’ll find my hand was on the book first.”

“So chivalry is dead?”  She hated herself for pulling the female card, but she really wanted to read that book.

"Please, Miss, I have a long journey ahead and nothing to read."  The plea in his eyes was evident.

"Fine.”  She huffed and turned away, she knew when the fight was not worth it.  She would just have to find something else.

\-----

She drifted towards Crime but it was not a section she was normally comfortable in.  Her stranger approached her from the other direction.  He seemed to be browsing still.

As he drew level with her next to the Colin Dexter’s, she cattily remarked, "For someone in a hurry, you don't seem to be leaving?"

The man continued to skim the rows, not meeting her eye, "Who said I was in a hurry?  I just said long journey."

"So when is this journey of yours?"

"Tomorrow."

"You..."  She bit her tongue as two small children ran past on their way to the picture books, an exasperated caregiver following on their heels.  With a huff, she spun on her heel and headed away from him as quickly as she could.

\-----

She made her way back to classics.  Maybe she had not yet read an undiscovered Wilde or a wayward Bronte.  By the Greek tragedies, she saw him again.

“Are you following me?”

“I feel bad for taking your book.  You seem lost now.”

“It’s just I was hoping to take advantage of this rare sunshine...”

“And read in the park?”

“Yes… do you steal thoughts as well as books?”

“I have been known to steal a few hearts.”  He winked.

“Cocky.”  However, she could not help but smile; there was something magnetic about him.

He held out his hand, “Benedict.”

Reluctantly she returned the gesture, “Kirsty.”

“A pleasure to meet you Kirsty.”

“You too.  But if you excuse me, I need to find something of my own to read now.”  She turned to head back into the aisles.

“Wait!  I have thought of a plan that lets us both enjoy the book, at least for a while.”  Benedict’s smooth voice was beginning to grow on her, she turned back to listen, “If you allow me to buy you a coffee, we could then maybe read it to each other.”

“Isn’t that a little ‘primary school’?”

“Not at all, think of it as acting.  I’ve been told I’m rather good at that.”

Warily, Kirsty replied, “Buy me that coffee and we can talk about it.”

\-----

The bench was in the shade of an oak but the warm sun kept the air pleasant.  Benedict sat at one end of the bench and Kirsty sat at the other.  They each set their coffees in the no man’s land between them.

“Do you want me to start or do you?”

“You can go first it’s your book after all.”

A gentle ‘ahem’ escaped as he cleared his throat.  He peeled back the cover gently, and Kirsty’s heart inflated as he turned the first pages with care.  He was a man who knew how to look after a book.

“ _On the pleasant shore of the French Riviera…_ ”

She listened to his voice journey over the words and fell into a daydream, transported to that tiny corner of France.  Benedict’s slight lisp often tripped over the Gallic words but she did not laugh, she listened more intently.  She was almost sorry that he got to the end of the short chapter so quickly.

“Your turn.”  The book was held out to her and she took it carefully off him.  Their fingers grazed each other’s for a split second, but she dismissed it in their clumsiness.

Kirsty was not as confident as he was reading aloud but he did not comment just relaxed back into the bench and watched her whilst he sipped his coffee.

By the end of the fifth chapter, their coffees were gone and the sun’s passage had moved their shade.  Kirsty squinted into the sunshine as she took the book back off Benedict once again.

Seeing her discomfort he remarked, "It seems that the sun is working against us today, shall we find some other shade?”

Before Kirsty could answer, her stomach spoke on her behalf.  The rumble was audible to even Benedict; her cheeks flushed red as she tried to hide behind the small paperback.  She never did get that pecan Danish pastry.

Benedict ploughed on regardless and with a slight giggle said “Or might I ask if you are free for lunch?”

Kirsty flustered for a moment, lunch with a strange man she had just met.  Nevertheless, he was a man who loved Fitzgerald and had happily spent the morning in the sun with her.  “I’d love to.”

“Fabulous.”  He bounded to his feet and held out his hands to her.  She gladly took his hands and he helped her to her feet.  “I know a little place around the corner, shall we?”  He held out the crook of his arm and she willingly placed her hand on his elbow.

“Yes, let’s.”


End file.
